


Will the sun ever rise...

by Mallior



Series: Triptych of Shadows [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1991.12.16., Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Dark Tony Stark, Gen, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Violence, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Beta Read, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, hence the relationship tag, hopefully..., mentions of injury, mentions of torture and brainwashing, not that dark!, probably..., strong canon divergence, you know the ususal Winter Soldier warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 13:24:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16347530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallior/pseuds/Mallior
Summary: “Okay, that wasn’t polite, Pepper would smack me for it. Let’s start again why I’m not afraid of you. One: you are in my lab, surrounded by a quiet few of my armors. Two: everything, literally everything in this building is monitored by an AI. Three: my name is Tony Stark and I kill people.”





	Will the sun ever rise...

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended music: [Five Finger Death Punch - Will the sun ever rise](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JUWHQGXELGo) // [Shinedown - 45](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sz4ipOHyMd8)
> 
> (I wrote this in my already little free time - usually during traveling to and back from work/school, if it's a little disjointed, well... it made sense to me when I wrote. XD)

Every breath hurt like breathing in molten iron, skin trying to crawl away from smallest touch. Knock-off serum or not, getting shot in the upper body sucked major ass, in Barnes opinion. 

 

* * *

 

The latest HYDRA raid started smoothly, he got into the building - old looking, six floors office monstrosity on the edge of Kansas City - and made a good progress up until the fourth floor. Maybe he got too confident, or just simply sank way too deep into his own head to think about survival… The sound of a rifle - AK-47, modified barrel and muzzle - caught him off guard along with the pain. He made an ungainly roll, almost fainting when landing but shot the man. His flesh hand touched the leather armor, his own blood painting it red. 

 

The next breath’s burning agony informed him it was a through-and-through. What the even Hell? He wore the leather armor and the softer body armor under it, yet the got two new holes in his body. Fuck HYDRA and their armor piercing rounds!

 

While it was the last thing he wanted to do, he aborted mission. Getting shot in the stomach area was dangerous even for him and the bloodloss already made him woozy…

  
  


It took him a little more than two days to get to New York City. It was a bitch to drive with fever and sitting in a car made his injury hurt like Hell. He ditched the car just outside Newark and choose public transport for a while. He got to Grand Central Terminal with only a minor hitch - some commuter muttered about letting hobos on the train and one man purposefully shoulder-checked him, making him almost puking from pain.

 

The walk to the Tower seemed endless, he needed to stop sometimes when the dizziness became overwhelming. The only positive thing about was it made his cover of a drunk homeless more convincing. He finally reached the side of the building and with a pained sigh, he slid to the ground. Above his head, one of the security cameras turned to look at him. He lifted his head and waved with his left hand, leaving a strip of metal visible between the ratty gloves and the equally ratty jacket. The camera turned from him.  _ Message received. _

 

Barnes closed his eyes for a few moments, breathing through the pain. Everything will be fine…

 

* * *

 

Waking up was like swimming through molasses. Everything felt slow, heavy and warm. He tried to blink, only to squint at the light above. 

 

“Sir, your guest is awake.” An unfamiliar voice with a strangely familiar accent spoke. A second later Tony Stark’s face appeared above him, blocking some of the light.

 

“Rise and shine, Sarge. Welcome back to the land of the living. You are at the Stark Tower, slept for 56 hours. Your injuries are cleaned, although I don’t recommend removing the draining tube from your side. There was a lot of fluid in your abdominal cavity, making you sick like a dog. You got high grade antibiotics and some supersoldier/Hulk-approved painkillers, hopefully you feel better than three days ago.” Barnes just stared at the man, speaking so much with one breath. But he was right, he felt much better.

 

“Thanks.” He rasped, voice rusty from disuse. Stark handed him an unopened bottle of water. 

 

“No problem Frosty. I told you to come to the Tower if you needed help and you needed some serious help. You up to some food? Your body is on heavy duty repairs and needs the fuel.” The engineer helped him to scoot up a little and the faint twinge in his stomach spoke a lot about the stuff he got, along with the injury. Stark picked up a tray from the nearest workbench, packed with a steaming bowl, a pack of crackers and a glass of… something green. 

 

The water helped with his scratchy throat as he glanced around. Well, this wasn’t a medical room, that was sure. There were parts of the Iron Man armor on a few workbenches, a wall lined with fully assembled ones behind glass and other mechanical bits and bobs thrown around probably by some logic.

 

“Yeah, this is my workshop. I left you in the medbay after you arrived, but you lashed out at a nurse. This is the most secure place in the Tower, not counting the Hulk’s containment room, but I’m here most of the time and it makes easier to keep an eye on your wounds. Start eating Sarge.” Stark placed the tray onto a small folding table in his lap. 

 

The bowl contained a really good smelling soup. Barnes grabbed the spoon and started eating in careful sips. The rice crackers made a good addition to the soup -  _ chicken, such a rare treat _ , his patchy brain supplied, but he ignored it. It was food, warm and probably not poisoned or drugged. Nothing else mattered.

 

Stark left him to eat as he retreated to one of the workbenches and picked up a small tool. Such a strange man, turning his back on the Winter Soldier… 

 

When the bowl was finally empty, crackers gone, he picked up the glass of green. 

 

“It’s not poison, despite the color. Smoothie made of apple, banana, a dollop of honey and a handful of wheat grass, hence the green. You need some natural sugar and it’s easy on the stomach.” Stark’s voice made him jump a little, almost spilling the smoothie onto his own lap. 

 

“For fuck’s sake, Stark! Would you stop it? While  injured, I still could kill you without ripping my wounds open.” He practically growled at the man. There was a beat of silence, then Stark started laughing. Honest to God giggles evolved into a real belly laugh. What the everloving Hell? 

 

It took minutes for Stark to calm down. He wiped away a few tears of mirth, then he lifted his head and looked into Barnes’ eyes. God, it was like looking into the mirror after a mission, headspace full of ice and bloody blades. 

 

“Do I need to remind you, where we met the first time? Do I need to remind you, there was no superhero team with me?” Stark stepped away from his workbench, and Barnes suddenly wished for some kind of weapon. “I kill people who deserve to die, because there is a system in place to keep me in line. The only reason why I don’t just nuke this mudball, because it would kill way too quickly. My body count is higher than yours, just less well documented. I’m not jacked up like you or the Captain, but I’m trained. I survived 3 months in a cave with a car battery wired to my chest and fought my way out. I battled aliens, cleaned up illegal weapon caches, HYDRA bunkers and labs. While it can be useful, I really, really don't like when people underestimate me. And I really don’t like when people threaten me. ” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked at Barnes again, that look disappeared. 

 

“Okay, that wasn’t polite, Pepper would smack me for it. Let’s start again why I’m not afraid of you. One: you are in my lab, surrounded by a quiet few of my armors. Two: everything, literally everything in this building is monitored by an AI. Three: my name is Tony Stark and I kill people.” He grinned at Barnes. 

 

“Nice to meet you.” Barnes murmured. “James Barnes, the Winter Soldier. But probably you know much more about me that I.” 

 

“Well, you are not wrong, but it can be solved if you have time between two HYDRA pits.” Stark offered with a shrug. 

 

* * *

 

The last few days was surreal for Barnes. There was food, medicine, Stark’s surprisingly thorough medical care and some of the most decadently soft bedding he touched in the last seventy years. The food alone gave him headache with all the colors and tastes. Stark almost choked on his coffee because of laughter, when Barnes tried the high grade Belgian chocolate he earthed from one of the kitchen cupboards. 

 

Well, Stark should fuck off, he wasn’t the one to live without sugar and chocolate in the last seven decade. 

 

They talked about his head, the engineer explaining his idea, but insisted on waiting until his gut healed. It was nice to have time to heal before an experimental procedure, not a courtesy HYDRA liked to practice. While it wasn’t nice to compare Stark to the HYDRA scientists he met, it was the only benchmark of human interaction he could remember. 

The thought made him angry, sad and nauseous in the same time. 

 

Watching Stark from the ratty but comfortable couch in the back of the workshop was amusing and made him curious. Clearly, there was something…  _ off _ about the man. He could remember the file HYDRA had had on him and it painted him as a smart civilian. Yet, the man who was currently argued with a beeping robot - let’s just not… - was a lot of thing, but not a civilian. 

 

In the last 24 hours Stark’s mood took a swan dive. He became more and more silent, the warm brown eyes slowly frosting over and Barnes practically could taste the bloodlust on the man. It lead to a short call to someone named  _ Rhodey _ , then Stark spent almost an hour scrolling through a list of names. Barnes recognized a few from HYDRA’s upper echelon, a few from having criminal ties to HYDRA and there was a bunch of unknown names there. Nick Fury’s name made Barnes blink. Wasn’t he the leader of SHIELD? Didn’t he died? And SHIELD was Stark’s ally… 

 

“Which is a surprise?” The engineer's voice interrupted his thoughts. The man looked away from the robot, who held a black tactical vest. 

 

“The leader of SHIELD. Isn't he one of you allies?” It was still weird to ask questions without the threat of punishment. 

  
“I can understand if a spy organization has secrets, that’s why they are spies. But Fury kept things from me, which don’t have value for him but only for me. Also, I don’t like blackmail.” There was something dark in the man’s voice, which made the small, bloodstained part of Barnes’ brain hum in agreement. 

 

“You said said something  about killing people.” 

For a moment Stark just looked at him with narrowed eyes, then he heaved a sigh. 

“Well, if the need arise, I could kill you for it, but okay. I have sociopathic tendencies, which manifests in…  _ itches _ . In the last two decades I worked it into a system, making sure killing the ones who deserved it. That’s the list you saw. Practically a hitlist currently filled HYDRA officers, even the ones in SHIELD and a few major drug lord and human traffickers of the worst kind. You know, selling children for brothels and stuff like that.” Stark explained then wandered back to his robot to pick up the argument they had. 

 

* * *

 

 

It became a habit. Barnes returned to Stark every two or three weeks for intel, equipment or just a safe place. The engineer opened his Tower for him, took care of almost everything mission related and they started to unearth his memories. It took five sessions to reach the ones about Stark’s parents…

While the previous memories were horrible - practically reliving how he lost his arm and how the metal one was grafted on… Well, at least they thought about getting a bucket before starting. 

But all of that paled next  _ that _ memory. He couldn’t understand why Stark did not shot him on sight. Because of course he knew about it. 

When he asked the man, all he got was a shrug and some bullshit bomb and shrapnel metaphor. Jackass…


End file.
